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“So be it,” I say. “Our life and what we do is none of your business. And if this is the way you’re going to act, you can keep your opinions to yourself and stay out of our way.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Maverick Harrington!” Her voice rises again.

“And you don’t get to have an opinion about who I’m with,” I say.

Her mouth gapes, and she turns on her heels and stomps out of the restaurant.

“Sorry about that,” I tell Iris.

Her eyes stay on the counter as she cleans it.

“Hey,” I say, lifting her chin to look at me. “I don’t care what she thinks.”

“It’s not just her,” she says, her mouth trembling.

I move my hand to her shoulder and squeeze it before letting go. “I really wish you’d change your mind—”

She turns and moves to grab a plate of food and takes it to one of the tables. I walk over to the corner booth. Linc has a few of his schoolbooks on the table, and he slides them over to clear the space for me. I can tell by his expression that he heard Millie Claire.

“How’s school going?” I ask.

“Okay,” he says. “I don’t like how everyone treats my mom around here.”

“I’m gonna see what I can do to change that, okay, buddy?” I say, ducking to meet his eyes.

He nods.

“It’s about time,” Otis grumbles.

My eyes meet his. “You’re right,” I tell him. “I’m going to do whatever I can to fix this.”

“I’m not sure you can,” he says. “You’ve got a lot of years to make up for.”

Linc looks between Otis and me, his brow furrowed.

“I haven’t always done right by your mom,” I say to him. “And I’m going to regret that for the rest of my life.”

“Otis says it’s never too late to do the right thing,” he says, his eyes boring into mine.

“Figures that would be the pearl of wisdom that would come back to haunt me,” Otis mutters.

I can’t help but laugh at that, and Linc looks relieved.

“I remember all your pearls,” Linc says, grinning at Otis.

“Too smart for your own good, kiddo,” Otis says, his eyes softening when he looks at Linc.

When I get home, I doze on the couch, Pickle cuddled up next to me. I wake up and check my phone. Nine o’clock. I could just go to bed because I need the sleep, but I want to make sure Iris is okay.

Me: Would it be okay if I come over for a little bit?

It’s a few minutes before she answers.

Iris: You pretending to be a night owl?

I grin.

Me: Took a nap when I got home. Got my second wind.